


Here are Sweetest Colours

by Lady of Prompts (Aethelflaed)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Flowers, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Money Back Guarantee, No Angst, Prompt Fic, Really there's not much to this, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Walks In The Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelflaed/pseuds/Lady%20of%20Prompts
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley go for a walk in the park. Fluff without plot.--Shrugging, Crowley brought his fingers up to rest on Aziraphale’s lapel. He tugged it, smoothed it flat, then slid a single pale pink sweat-pea into the top buttonhole.“Oh,” Aziraphale said, suddenly feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the July heat. “Er, yes. Thank you, my dear.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 107
Collections: GO-DIWS Prompt Sprints





	Here are Sweetest Colours

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a prompt from under-the-linden-tree, who suggested pressed flowers or cheek touches. I managed one of the two, but I assure you the flower will be pressed after they get home.
> 
> As a DIWS Prompt-Sprint, the entire fic was written in 20 minutes, with minor editing.

“…now people assume that it should be a linear progression, but in fact, it is only through the use of – of parallels, and repeated motifs and – and other repetitions of details that the author can—”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley interrupted, quite rudely.

The angel’s words stumbled to a halt. “Crowley, I don’t think you were listening to me,” he accused. “I’m trying to impress on you the vital importance of proper literary structure in a romance novel, which many modern readers think you can—”

“A – zir – a – phale.”

“Crowley!” This time his feet stopped as well, coming to a halt along the path in St James’s Park. He crossed his arms and pouted. “I would like, just once, to have a _serious discussion_ with you without – pointless interludes every few minutes about – about ducks or dolphins or flowers or – or – or birds flying spaceships or whatever other nonsense comes into your—”

“Annnnngel,” Crowley drew out the word. He tossed his head, hair twisted up into some sort of knot as his only concession to the summer heat. One thumb hooked into the belt loop of his absurdly tight trousers. It was suffocating just _looking_ at them, but still, he smirked in the burning sunlight, calm and cool as ever.

“What, Crowley? What is _so important_ it can’t wait until I finish?”

Shrugging, Crowley brought his fingers up to rest on Aziraphale’s lapel. He tugged it, smoothed it flat, then slid a single pale pink sweat-pea into the top buttonhole.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, suddenly feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the July heat. “Er, yes. Thank you, my dear.”

“You shouldn’t thank me,” Crowley warned, bringing one hand up to brush Aziraphale’s face. His thumb stroked down one side, tracing the curve of the cheek, coming to rest under Aziraphale’s chin, lifting it just slightly for a better view.

“Oh. Right. I was forgetting.”

“Just like I shouldn’t tell you how radiant you look today.”

“My – you – _Crowley,”_ he stammered, stepping back and tugging at the bottom of his waistcoat. “You know perfectly well I look the same today I do as every day.”

“True.” Crowley flashed a grin and shoved his hands into his pockets, sauntering up the walk. “Now, what were you saying about the importance of returning to the initial milieu?”

Huffing and tutting, Aziraphale hurried to catch up. Crowley wiggled his elbow, and Aziraphale slipped a hand to rest there, just lightly at the crook of his arm. “Ah. Yes. Well. It’s very important to _end_ the story on a note reflective of the one it _began_ on…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Not much to this little thing but I've got some big fics coming soon. Hope this picks up your week a bit!
> 
> This...MAY be the fluffiest thing I've ever written. It's a little cheesy, but I'm proud - as of last year I thought "Finding the Words" was as fluffy as I was ever going to get.
> 
> Anyway, expect an Arkload of Angst to counter this in the next few days.  
> \--  
> Returning to the Initial Milieu basically means that if a story involves a journey, the narrative must either return to the original location, or a place resembling it, at the end, otherwise it will feel incomplete (Bilbo and Frodo must each return to Bag-End, etc).
> 
> The trope, and its exceptions, are more suited to fantasy and sci-fi than to romance novels, but it was the simplest example of literary structure for Aziraphale to geek out over that I could think of.


End file.
